


Hitting the Books

by yuuago



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Canon-Typical Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Unexpected overnight stay, mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/pseuds/yuuago
Summary: After discovering a promising cache of books, Sigrun and Emil get trapped in a library overnight. It'll be a long wait for morning.





	Hitting the Books

**Author's Note:**

> I won beta services from Kiraly (@worldsendtwined at tumblr) in the 2018 Fandom Trumps Hate charity auction. Since this fic is more complicated than what I usually write, her help with this was much appreciated!
> 
> And thank you to Folie for the title suggestion. :D

After they left the city, things were different altogether.

Roads were still choked, but they were wider, at least. The buildings were lower, the construction of many of them less sturdy than the old built-to-last stuff one usually encountered in city hearts. Trolls were still to be found, lurking in buildings where they might have once lived, but they were more spread out, easier to avoid.

Still, it was enough to call for caution. Still enough to require care. More than enough to worry about.

The building that Lalli had led them to was low-lying, broad, set a bit apart from the rows and rows. There was plenty of space. Room for an exit. And inside —

"It was a residential library," Tuuri had said, translating her cousin's quiet rolling words as he slid his fingertips along the map, indicating the suggested route. "The inside is clear, and he says that the surrounding area is also clear." A pause. "Well, as clear as we can expect."

"Sounds good," Sigrun replied. She reached over and ruffled the little scout's hair. "Tell him he's free to nap until we get there."

"Lalli —"

But the kid was already slinking off, yawning, heading for a corner where he could curl up and doze. From the look of it, they had been through this enough times that he knew by the sound of her voice when things were finished, even if he didn't understand everything she said. Nice.

A routine operation. That was what this little side-trip was supposed to be. They'd had too much excitement for a while. Their last attempt had resulted in no loot, too much risk, and as fast a getaway as their tank could muster. Better to try something easy; take it slow before getting back into the swing of it. That's the way, Sigrun told herself. Easy does it.

And easy it was. Lalli had been right; the area was clear by all appearances. And the building was sound, or at least it looked like it. Ceilings had a tendency to cave in with these kinds of places, but as she shone her lantern upward, she saw dark spots where the damp had seeped through, but nothing more.

The books would be fine, then. At least some of them. Enough to make the trip worthwhile.

They had divided into groups of two. Tuuri and Reynir were waiting in the tank. The little scout and the big guy were covering the part of the building closest to the tank. And that left —

"Just you and me, buddy," Sigrun said, giving Emil a pat on the back. "How about that?"

"Well —" He glanced at her, then toward the interior of the building. It was dark, but the windows let in enough light. The darkness wasn't heavy, wasn't impenetrable, not as long as there was daylight to see by. He took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders, not seeming conscious that he was doing it. "This should be fine."

"Great! That's what I like to hear." The last try, which had ended so badly, had left him shaky; Emil had been on edge for days after that, looking over his shoulder every single hour that they'd spent camped outside the city. But now, by the look of it, he was getting himself back. Good, Sigrun repeated to herself. That's good. And out loud, she said, "Come on, pal. Let's see what this place has to offer."

They went into the dark together.

* * *

Emil was the one who found the room. Most of the building was open-plan, with nothing but rows and rows of shelves. At the edges, there were large windows and space for seating, and desks, and more shelves. But then there was the little room set apart from the rest. Moisture had claimed the ceiling in front of it, and they moved carefully past that area before pressing on to the room's entrance.

It had a large door, which by now was sagging on its hinges, barely holding together. It squeaked as he pushed it open. Odd, Sigrun thought, that he'd be so curious, so bold as to decide to take a look. There could've been anything in there. But she went with him inside, and took in the lay of the land while he poked around, eyes and ears open. Then, low-toned and almost breathless, came the whisper. "Sigrun! Look at this!"

She slunk deeper into the room, letting her lamplight fall on Emil's broad form. He had a book in his hands, and he'd set his lantern down at his feet.

"What?" she asked. "It's more books. So?"

"Yeah, but — look, these are special."

She cast her lantern light over the shelves. There the books were, as ordinary-looking as any of the others, though some had shiny lettering along the spines, which flashed as the beam slipped over them. At least the damp had stayed outside, rather than seeping in; no dark spots on the ceiling in this part, at least, which meant the books had been protected from moisture. Good condition, by the look of them. That was something.

The room itself was small, with space enough for two chairs and a sofa. Something that might have been a fireplace at one end. And then the rows of books reaching up to the ceiling. But they were just regular books, weren't they?

"Explain," Sigrun said quietly, stepping closer to him, peering over Emil's shoulder at the book in his hands. "They're books. So what? They're not even plastic."

"I think... um. This was a special collections room."

"So?"

"So —" He flipped open the book in his hands. Slid a gloved finger against the publication date. "Look. They printed it in the 1800s."

"...Get to the point, Emil."

"Year zero was two thousand and... something." He turned to her, grinning. "This book was over a hundred years old by then."

Another 'so' threatened to slip out. Instead, Sigrun stopped to consider this. A hundred years old. A special room set aside for them. _Antiques_.

Well. As far as _she_ was concerned, a book was a book. But she knew damn well that people were crazy. And even if these books wouldn't do any good on the old-world knowledge front, people with more money than brains would dump cash on them. They'd go like honeycakes.

"Okay," she said softly, giving his shoulder a squeeze of approval. "I get it. If you think these'll be worth a lot of money, we'll take 'em." Pausing, she looked over the shelves. Many of them were in good condition; others were... less than good. "Well. The ones that won't fall apart, anyway."

"Right. Of course. I — um."

Sigrun waited. He was hesitating. Why? She saw him looking toward the shelves, his gaze sliding almost hungrily over the books. Well, then. "...So. Do you know anything about old-world stories?"

"Of course," he said, with that air of confidence that occasionally made her doubt — but on this, well, maybe he was telling the truth. "My education was very thorough, you know."

Well, whatever, Sigrun thought. Good enough. "Okay. Since you know what you're looking at here, I'll leave selection to you, then. Just hand 'em to me, and we'll head out." Not that it mattered. The books would sell anyway, no matter what the contents were, as long as they were in good condition — and in some cases even if they weren't. No matter which writer had slapped that text down years and years and years ago, they'd profit off this. But the place was clear, and the day was bright, and even if _she_ didn't give a damn about them, by the look of it, Emil did.

That was fine. The place was clear. They had plenty of time.

* * *

They made several trips to that little room. To her relief, Emil didn't spend a lot of time lingering over the selections, or fussing about what to take and what to leave behind. She'd have had to pull him in if he'd done that. Rein in his enthusiasm. Luckily for her, it was only a matter of taking care with it, and he understood that. Check author to see if he recognized the name, check the title too, and check if it was going to fall apart. Then he'd pass it on to her capable hands, stacking them up carefully. He was getting pretty quick with it.

One last glance to the sky as they came out with a load. The sun was starting to drop low. It would be a while before they had to leave, but — best to take care with it. "One more trip," she said to Emil. Gave a nod to Mikkel, who came out of the building with his arms laden with books.

"We'll bring one more pile back, and then we're gone."

Emil looked from the building to their stack of books, then back again. It was only a fraction of what had been in that room. She could see the wheel in his head turning as he made some quick calculations.

She patted him on the shoulder. "Relax," she said. "We can come back another time, probably. As long as there's not a reason to torch the place, anyway."

A barely-there exhale of relief, and also, maybe, a hint of flush at being reminded of that one time when things hadn't gone exactly as planned. "Of course," he said. "I don't plan to do anything like that at all."

In fact, it was a relief to see how clear the place was, Sigrun thought as she slipped back inside for one last trip, Emil following at her side. No trolls. No sign of trolls. No beasts, either. If anything had come through this place, it would have been a while ago.

Well. The library was holding up, but it wasn't exactly stable. One step up from a crap building, if that. Not exactly prime nest location. At times, they could hear the building creak, groaning as the wind outside shook it.

She waited while Emil made his last selections, letting him stack the books up, practically using her as a shelf. He was taking his time, but at least he wasn't dawdling. They had a little while yet. A few more minutes was all it would take, and she could grant him that. No big deal at all. So when he turned to her, smiling broadly as he added another book to the stack, she readied herself.

"We're going to be rich," he said, placing it, and then another. "Absolutely, completely, filthy rich."

"Sure we will. Already got the filthy part down, even." She shifted from one foot to the other, watched as he turned for more. "Pick up the pace, Emil. We don't have all day."

"Of course, of course. Just one more minute..."

Fine. A minute.

So, Sigrun waited. Waited and listened, keeping her ears open, taking everything in, ignoring the small noises Emil made as he rummaged around the room. Listened to the wind outside, the creak of the foundations. Listened for anything that might not belong to the library itself, anything that might speak to a sound made by a beast, or a troll, or worse.

Listened. Just in case.

Creaking. More creaking. The whine of wood. What?

It was close. It wasn't outside. It wasn't the wind shipping against the building. It wasn't —

The ceiling beyond the doorway collapsed and she barely had time to step away from it, dropping the stack of books as she moved. It came apart in a rush of wood and plaster and dust, the ceiling above caving in and falling into it.

There was nowhere to go.

She and Emil swept to the furthest corner of the room, coughing. The dust stung their eyes, choked them, and there was nothing to do but wait as it settled.

As they moved, Sigrun could only think about one thing.

No exit.

When the dust finally cleared enough that they could see, Sigrun turned toward the door — or where it used to be. Beside her, Emil groaned. All that was left of the doorway was a pile of rubbish. Wood, plaster, whatever the hell these shitty old buildings were made of, all of it had collapsed down from above, leaving little more than a sliver of open space at the top, too small to squeeze through.

Shit, Sigrun thought as she stepped toward it. 

It wouldn't be easy to get out of this.

Taking in look of the rubble, she tried not to cough. It was plenty difficult with the air still thick with dust.

There was a sound on the other side of the blockage. She tensed, and held up a hand to Emil, signalling him to stay silent. Listened.

Footsteps. Ordinary human footsteps. Heavy ones.

"Sigrun?"

Mikkel. "Here," she whispered, stepping as close to the remnants of the doorway as she could, with Emil close at her side. "We're both okay." Though she couldn't hear his sigh of relief, she could imagine it. "What's it like out there, can you dig us out?"

The voice was far-off, muffled, coming after a long pause. "Extensive structural damage..."

"Just give me an answer, Mikkel." She lifted her voice as much as she dared. "Can you dig us out? Quickly?"

A long pause. "This will take three hours at least."

Sigrun pressed her lips together. Clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She'd seen the position of the sun out there. Three hours would take them into night. And with that collapse, there was no guarantee that something hadn't heard it. Wouldn't hear them working if they stayed. Hell, there was probably something on its way right now.

"Okay" she said as she stepped closer to where the door used to be, muffling a cough as another load of dust fell. "Here's what I want you to do. Get the others, and go —"

"Sigrun!"

There was a sound from the other side of the pile. Rummaging. Was Mikkel trying to dig them out? Don't even start, you idiot, Sigrun thought. Even if it was preferable to mutiny, it was not what they needed, not at a time like this. "Get out of here, and _come back_ tomorrow morning. You can dig us out tomorrow, if the scout says it's clear."

"But —"

" _Now_. We'll be fine."

Silence. For a moment, at least. She could picture him, hesitating, eyeing all that rubbish as if he thought he could move it by himself.

The words came eventually. "We'll be back in the morning."

"Good. Now, get going. No telling what you might run into."

There was the sound of footsteps walking away from them. Then, silence.

She turned to Emil. He'd been staying by her side, listening. The dim light from their lanterns cast odd shadows on his face. No doubt he was trying to hide how worried he was, but it came through anyway. There was a blanched look about him, his eyes wider than he would've admitted to.

"So, we're stuck here?" he whispered.

"Yeah." She patted him on the shoulder. "You're stuck with me." She flashed him a smile, but in spite of her best efforts, he didn't look all that reassured. 

Well, she thought, that's fine.

If she had anything to say about it, they'd get through this.

* * *

It wasn't so bad, not for the first little while. They kept busy by checking the room over, going through it carefully to make sure that there wasn't anything they had to worry about. Any vents or holes they might have missed. Any place where something might sneak in.

A small opening by the collapsed door provided all the ventilation they were going to get. And the fireplace —

"It's not a real fireplace," Emil said softly as he saw her poking around it. "They used to have ones that ran on electricity."

"That would explain why there's no proper chimney, then."

"Right."

And all the while, they listened. Sigrun kept her ear tuned toward the collapsed entrance. Waiting. Staying on guard to see if anything would come, if anything had heard or smelt or sensed them and come creeping. 

But there was no sound from outside. Nothing.

Lalli _had_ said the area was as clear as they could reasonably expect. He'd said that he hadn't seen anything to worry about. That there were no nests nearby. That there was nothing in this building.

Or at least, that's what he'd said according to Tuuri.

They would have to take his word for it. And her word for it.

"Okay," Sigrun whispered, looking at Emil. "We're going to have to take turns staying awake, just in case. And we're going to have to stay close together."

"What do you mean?" Emil asked from his spot down on the floor by the fake fireplace, where he'd been poking around experimentally as if looking to construct a real fire.

"I mean, if you're planning to light anything up, then forget it." She strode over, bent to ruffle his hair a little. "We can't have any light; we covered up that hole pretty well, but there's always a chance that something might see. Would be all right if we only needed a place to stay, but with all that noise, we can't risk it."

"...Oh. Of course." It looked like he wanted to say 'I knew that', but stopped himself. In the warm light of their lanterns, his face looked a tad pale, his eyes still wide from before. "You don't think there's something out there, do you? Lalli said the area was clear..."

"Sure. But there's always a chance. Things move around at night. And that wall collapsing made a lot of noise, don't you think?" She glanced over toward what was left of the door. It was as secure as it could be, considering everything. "Come on. Let's get some rest. I'll take first watch."

* * *

They arranged themselves on the sofa, staying close. It was dusty as hell, and not the most comfortable place she'd ever slept, but it wasn't the worst either. It would have to do.

Emil curled up close to her. 

"Try to sleep," Sigrun told him. "I'll wake you when it's your turn to play lookout. Okay?" 

For a second, it looked like he'd reply. Then he simply nodded, and made an admirable attempt at not looking to worried, and closed his eyes.

Sigrun shut off the lanterns, plunging them into darkness.

Then she sat back and listened.

Nothing.

No scrabbling. No creepy whispering. There was a whistling sound from the breeze outside, and the soft hush of Emil's breathing, and the churning of his gut as it grumbled from lack of supper, and her own blood pumping in her ears.

Nothing else.

Good.

It wouldn't be the first time that she'd had to stay the night in less-than-ideal conditions. But the other times had been different, a whole lot different. She'd been on her home turf then. And she'd been with more experienced partners. 

Sigrun thought back to two years before, when some ill-timed decisions had led to her spending the night in an outpost shack, with Dagny in no position to run, and Yngve worried as hell. There had been damn good reason to worry, too — but while Yngve was no medic, he wasn't half-bad at getting someone cleaned up in a pinch, and all three of them were more than capable of handling a rifle, or a knife, or anything of the like if it came to that.

Sigrun couldn't say the same for Emil.

Oh, he was getting better at all that. Better than when she'd first met him, at any rate. The kid showed promise! But determination and a willingness to try weren't what she needed right now.

Well, she thought. You can't have everything. Sigrun knew that very well.

She stared into the dark and listened. The blackness was near-absolute; no windows in that little room. What had Emil called it? 'Special collections'? Sunlight had a way of fading things, making them all bleached and crumbly, so the lack of light made sense enough. Got to protect the goodies, after all. But what she would give for a bit of light. Natural light, moonlight, not fire. Not something that would call trouble to them.

Can't have everything. Right.

Emil dozed beside her. She could hear his breath. The sound was slow, even, deep. The seats they were on weren't exactly comfortable; the springs dug into her ass, and the cushions sagged. But the sofa was intact, at least, just like the rest of the room. Must have been shut up ever since the first year.

Between the dust and their dilapidated sleeping arrangements, she'd thought it would take the kid longer to get to sleep. As it turned out, he could still surprise her. That was good. Great, even.

Sigrun drew in a long breath and listened.

Wind outside. Whistling through the building, through some broken window. The low groan of the old, rotting building. Places like this had their own noises, and they could sound downright creepy if you didn't know what to listen for. If you didn't know what you were hearing.

But Sigrun did know what to listen for.

No scratching, scraping, scrabbling noises. No tell-tale sound of too many feet. Nothing that sounded like mice, either, which was good because you couldn't trust that. Couldn't tell with noises like that, couldn't be sure whether it really was just an animal, not until it was directly upon you.

She'd tell Emil about that time with Dagny. Later. And all the rest. Getting stuck somewhere like that. He seemed to appreciate her stories, even if half of them — well, maybe more than half of them — made him look a little sick to the gut. 

She'd make a fighter of him eventually.

Sure, I'll tell him, Sigrun thought. When we get back.

If. Not when. She reminded herself of that.

* * *

Eventually, it was time to rouse Emil. Even without a watch, Sigrun had become pretty good at judging the passage of time, and she knew when it felt right.

Okay.

She nudged him gently. There really was no good way to go about this.

"Emil," she whispered, keeping her voice down. "Hey buddy, wake up —"

"Wh—!"

"Shh!" Sigrun covered his mouth with one gloved hand, slid an arm around his shoulders, leaning in close to hold his tense form. "It's me. It's just me. You're okay. All right?" She knew that in the dark, there wasn't much she could do to reassure him. But they couldn't take any risks, either.

Emil took in a gulp of air, then exhaled slowly. He was still tense against her, but not as much as before.

As he nodded, she took her palm away from his mouth.

"Okay," he said, his voice like a sigh.

"Sleep pretty soundly, eh?" Sigrun ducked her head to speak by his ear, the better to keep her voice down. The kid was flustered, probably blushing on account of her startling him, she thought.

"Yeah. Um. No. I was, uh, resting my eyes."

"All right." She patted him on the shoulder, staying close. "Well, buddy, it's your turn to keep watch. Are you up to it?"

Emil was still tense, but his breath slower than before as he came down from that worry. Sigrun wished she could see his face; it was easier to tell what she was dealing with when she could look right at him. She'd have to go instead with his voice, his breathing, the tension in his shoulders.

"Did you hear anything?" he asked. He sounded worried.

"Nah. Nothing at all."

"Okay." She felt him move from her, sitting up straighter. Heard him take hold of his rifle. "I'm ready."

Sigrun grinned in the dark. "All right. Now, if you hear anything, anything at all, you wake me. Okay?"

No response. Must have been a nod. She waited, listened, and finally he realized what was up, and spoke, his tone just a little embarrassed. "Got it."

All right, then.

Sigrun shifted a little to get herself comfortable, then closed her eyes. She was dead-tired, and it was time for a little shut-eye. The question was, could she trust Emil to keep a proper watch?

Well. There was only one way to find out.

She sighed, and let herself slip into a doze.

* * *

Sigrun slept, and she dreamed. Memories of before, being trapped with her friends, stuck until morning. Holed up in a little shack, nestled close for warmth, waiting for the sunlight.

If it weren't for Dagny, they might have tried making their way. They were young and stupid, and trying to slip out as silently and quickly as possible sounded like a great idea. 

Now, she knew better. But back then....

The fact that Dagny couldn't run on that twisted ankle saved their lives. Probably. Better to burrow into the dark, stay quiet, keep watch for things outside. Stay until morning. Leave in the daylight.

Sigrun remembered the scent of the place, the smell of dust and rotted wood, the tang of old chemicals. The low, even sound of Yngve and Dagny breathing next to her. And she listened for the sound of too many feet, the crack of wood and dead leaves, the hush of the night birds ended their song.

It'd be day soon. It would. They just had to wait it out. And then....

Something nudged her awake.

Sigrun gasped, swallowed a gulp of air. Felt someone around her, a mouth by her ear.

"Sigrun! Listen —"

Emil.

There was a scratching, scrabbling sound above them. Sigrun strained to hear where it was coming from. What was it? What were they dealing with?

A light would have been nice, she thought wearily. Windows. Moonlight. But for now, they'd have to deal.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. Up, nearby, inside. It sounded small, like something that wouldn't be much trouble to deal with, but if there was one, there was usually another.

She could hear Emil breathing heavily beside her, trying to be quiet, trying not to make even the slightest sound. He was tense, and not doing a very good job of it.

So, Sigrun thought. Would they be able to wait it out?

No. There was another sound — like debris shifting — and she knew exactly where it was.

Slowly, she dipped her head. Spoke close to Emil's ear, keeping her voice low.

"Do you have the lantern?"

He ducked in a breath. She felt him nod.

"Good. I'm going to take care of our guest. Turn it on at the count of three. ...I don't think it can get in yet. Close your eyes so the light won't blind you. Got it?"

Another sucked-in breath, another shaky nod.

She heard him move to take up the lantern. Then a pause as he stopped, waiting, the only sound the scratching noises made by the thing on the other side of the wall.

She closed her eyes. Put her hand on the hilt of her knife. Drew it out. Readied herself.

"One... two... three."

The light went on. She saw the rosy glow behind her eyelids. After a second, she cracked her eyes open.

Emil had his hand partially covering the front of the lamp, obscuring the light enough that the adjustment wasn't too much of a pain in the ass. Good thinking, kid, she thought. Later, when they had time to breathe, she'd thank him for it.

Looking toward where the door had once been, it wasn't hard to see what was going on. There was the pile of rubble. There were the collapsed beams. And there was that narrow space near the top, just open enough to let in air — and other things.

There was something trying to get in.

Long, spidery limbs reaching. Beast, not troll, probably. In the shadows, it was hard to tell what it used to be.

Sigrun gripped her knife. "Hold that steady," she said, meaning the lantern, and beside her Emil nodded.

She rose. Went over.

Could she reach that far? Wounding it would be too much risk. Who knows, she thought, it might run off and bring back some of its gross buddies. No, better not to even think about that.

Do it once, and do it right.

She could hear it. Not just the sound of it scraping to get in, but some low whining, whimpering, rodent-like noise. That wasn't good. If anything heard that —

Doesn't matter, she told herself. One thing at a time.

She hauled herself up by standing on a bit of rubble. There it was, long limbs reaching. Way more limbs than anything had any business having. It was all waving long and spider-like in the dim lanternlight. And the head — wide eyes. And long, long front teeth.

Sigrun pressed a hand to the wall to keep herself steady. Just a bit closer....

As she was raising herself up to strike, the thing scrabbled its way in, skittering down the heap of collapsed ceiling on its eight legs.

She heard Emil yell, and the lamp moved. Sigrun swore under her breath and stepped down, darting after the thing, running around the room. "Light, Emil!" she barked. "I can't see!"

The light swung around, finally catching on the beast running its way around the room. Then lost it — found it — lost it again.

Sigrun went after it, scattering books as she went, listening for the sound of it moving. Then she pushed over another pile of books, which sent it flying into the nearby beam of light where she could see it. There —

Her knife found it, caught it, sliced it. She heard it screeching as the black blood streaked out onto what was left of the carpet.

It stopped moving. Eventually. Sigrun wiped her knife, looked up at Emil. It was hard to see him, a dark shape behind the red glow of the lantern.

"Hear anything?' she asked.

They were both silent. The only thing Sigrun could hear was Emil's heavy breathing and her own blood thumping in her veins.

Nothing. But that didn't mean there wouldn't be anything, and it didn't mean that the noise hadn't caught anything's attention.

"We have to block up that hole. Come on."

The two of them set to it, using rubble to block up the hole. Sigrun said nothing else. Beside her, Emil, to her pleasant surprise, seemed steady enough. He bit at his lower lip, but his hands didn't shake.

They settled back down after that. Emil took up the lamp again, but didn't turn it off; he kept it lit, partially covered, the light warm and rosy in the dark.

Neither of them said anything. They waited, listening. There wasn't enough light for Sigrun to be sure of his expression, but she could make a guess at what he was thinking. Was that the only one? Would there be another? Would something else show up and make its way through the blocked hole and —

There wasn't a sound. Nothing. Still....

"Okay," she said softly. "Looks like we're ready to get back on track. Hear anything?"

"No."

"Right. Now, I think one of us should get some shuteye." Sigrun slipped out her watch, squinted at the hands on it, then stuffed it back into her pocket. "It's not long until morning. I can take the next watch."

"Um." Emil shifted a little, moving to cover up the lantern more thoroughly. "I can finish my watch, if you want to finish sleeping."

Sigrun looked at him carefully. He looked alert enough. Maybe a bit on edge, but not too much. Steady breathing, watching her with as much confidence as he could muster.

"You're sure about this?" she asked.

He nodded. Paused. Said, "Yes."

"Okay." She settled in. Closed her eyes. "Wake me up if you hear anything."

She hoped nothing would come from that. But somehow — now — she knew that she could trust him to do that much, at least.

* * *

Sound.

Her eyes popped open before she even realized what had caused them to do it. Sigrun drew in a sharp breath and listened.

Emil was beside her, silent. Asleep, if the heaviness of his head on her shoulder was any indicator.

She should've figured that would happen. It could wait for later, though.

She listened, trying to catch the sound again.

What was it?

It was still dark as hell in that room, but as she looked toward the collapsed doorway, she thought she could see the smallest sliver of light at the edges of the patch they'd hastily stuffed over the hole.

Footsteps. Normal footsteps. And a voice.

"Sigrun?"

Well. She knew _that_ voice.

She rose from the couch and darted over to the ruined doorway. She hauled herself up, pulled away the stopper.

A too-bright light and a familiar face greeted her.

"Hey, big guy." Sigrun grinned. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," Mikkel said, in his usual dry, too-formal tone.

"So. When are you planning to bust us out of here?" Behind her, she could hear movement. Emil was stirring. The sound of them talking must have knocked him awake.

"As soon as possible. If we work at it from both sides, I expect it will be easier to remove you and Emil from the room without further collapses."

"Right. Careful, now. Is Twig with you?"

"Lalli is here, yes."

"Good. Make sure he keeps an eye out. We had some trouble overnight — don't worry," she said, as Mikkel's eyes widened. "Nobody's hurt. It's just messy in here, and we'll need a good clean once we get out." She flashed him a grin, hoping it was as reassuring as it was meant to be.

Mikkel sighed. "I see," he said. "Very well." At least those bushy brows settled into a less anxious expression. He bent to retrieve something — a package wrapped in waxed paper. "I have brought breakfast."

"Awesome! Thanks, buddy. We'll join you in a bit." She took the package and carried it down to Emil, who was waiting for her. "Carry on!" she said over her shoulder.

As she and Emil devoured carrot and cheese biscuits by lamplight, the hole slowly, carefully grew large enough to let more light in. Sigrun couldn't help but be silently relieved.

Mikkel had kept his word.

* * *

It didn't take that long to dig them out. In the light, with the whole day ahead of them, it wasn't all that hard to open up that collapsed doorway without making too much noise or having the rest of it cave in on them. With Mikkel on one side, Emil and Sigrun working on the other, and Lalli serving as lookout, they were able to get Sigrun and Emil out — and the books, too, for that matter.

Soon, they were cleaned up and in the tank, which rolled along out at as brisk a pace as it could manage. Cup of mint tea in one hand, Sigrun listened as Emil gave his account of the incident to Tuuri. The way he put it, the beast that had slipped into their hiding spot overnight had been practically the size of a house.

A smile spread over her lips. Well, it wasn't like she'd never exaggerated her exploits. She'd let him have this one.

"Those books better have been worth the trouble, pal," she said, nudging at him.

Emil grinned at her. "Just you wait. I know exactly what we have here. It will be completely worth it. Trust me on this one."

Maybe they'd get some cash out of this trip after all.

As the tank rolled out of the village, the sun rose warm and bright, lighting the road ahead of them.


End file.
